


we were good when we were good

by likewinning



Category: DCU (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bands, Alternate Universe - Retail, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-28
Updated: 2016-08-28
Packaged: 2018-08-11 11:25:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7889815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/likewinning/pseuds/likewinning
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"This is where I want to be."</p>
            </blockquote>





	we were good when we were good

**Author's Note:**

> set a babillion years before any other events in this series. for ohmcgee as always, WHO HAS FINALLY ACCEPTED BRUCE/HARVEY INTO HER HEART. <3

They have an off day in Detroit. Mera and Diana use it to explore the city, but after Bruce goes out to grab coffee, he finds Harvey still in their hotel room, sitting on one of the twin beds and scowling at his guitar.

"New song?" Bruce asks. He hands Harvey one of the coffees and Harvey looks at him like he's made out of pure gold. Harvey takes his coffee black, no sugar - the only way it's meant to be, he says, but Bruce has seen him throw an ounce of Jack in there more than once.

"Yeah," Harvey says. "It's shit, though."

"You always say that," Bruce says. He sits on the bed next to Harvey, breathes in Harvey's aftershave and the cigarettes he smokes like crazy whenever he's working on something new. "And then it ends up being something amazing."

"Yeah, well," Harvey says. He shrugs, plucks at the guitar. He never uses picks on the acoustic, just strums so hard sometimes that his fingers bleed from it. His knuckles are still bruised from the guy he punched in Milwaukee. They had to get out of town fast that night; Diana called him a lunatic, and Mera laughed and said it was nothing _she_ wouldn't have done.

"I called home," Harvey says after a minute. "Don't know why, don't know what I was expecting."

"Harv," Bruce says. He puts his hand on Harvey's shoulder, solid muscle from all those years he did construction for his waste of space father. Harvey looks up at him, big brown eyes searching for - something.

"Maybe I shouldn't have made you do this," Harvey says. "Run off like this."

Bruce swallows. He doesn't say he'd do anything Harvey asked, because - because surely Harvey _knows_ that by now.

"You didn't," Bruce says. "I'm - this is where I want to be." _With you._

Harvey nods. He grasps Bruce's hand in his, and Bruce feels calluses and cuts, feels the heat that constantly runs through Harvey.

"It's not done," Harvey says. "But do you want to hear it?"

"Of course," Bruce says. He lays back on the bed and Harvey starts to play, quiet at first and then louder, singing the lyrics Diana wrote for him. His voice is hoarse and breaks at one point and it's everything Bruce -

"It's perfect," Bruce says when he finishes.

"Yeah, well," Harvey says. He sets the guitar down and settles back next to Bruce. Bruce can tell by the circles under his eyes that he didn't sleep much last night, if at all. "You say that about everything I write, man."

"And I always mean it," Bruce says. He smiles at Harvey, and Harvey winces.

"Fuck," Harvey says. He laughs, and it's harsh and barking and makes Bruce think of when Harvey almost got kicked out of school. He was furious with Bruce for throwing his money around to save him. Bruce never told Harvey it wasn't just for _him._

"You know," Harvey says. "I thought - I thought maybe being away from everything would help me get over…"

"Get over what?" Bruce asks.

Harvey lets out a breath, cigarettes and coffee. "You, dummy," Harvey says.

"Oh," Bruce says. He forgets how to say anything else, not when Harvey runs his bruised knuckles up and down Bruce's arms, not when Harvey licks his lips and says, "What do you say?"

"What," Bruce stammers. "What do I say to what?"

Harvey snort. "Don't give me that, man. This. Us, okay?" He moves closer to Bruce, until their noses touch and Bruce goes cross-eyed trying to see him. Sometimes he feels that way when he looks at Harvey, anyway.

"Mera and Diana seem to be doing okay," Harvey says. "Right?"

"Yes," Bruce agrees. "But -"

Harvey kisses him. His lips are chapped and he presses in hard, pushing Bruce's mouth open with his tongue before Bruce can even think. Bruce moans, and Harvey pulls back, laughs. "God," Harvey says. "You can't _do_ that."

"Why not?" Bruce asks.

"Because," Harvey says. He runs his thumb over Bruce's bottom lip and Bruce darts his tongue out to taste, wants to taste _all_ of him. "It makes me want to fuck you 'til we're both _blind_."

"I'm," Bruce says. He shivers when Harvey runs his fingers through his hair. "I'm not sure that's possible."

"You've never doubted me before," Harvey teases. He kisses Bruce again, sucks his bottom lip between his teeth. "Tell me what you want."

"You," Bruce says. "Your - hands on me."

"Yeah," Harvey says. "I want that, too." He pushes Bruce down on the mattress, climbs on top of him. "God," Harvey says. He grabs at Bruce's arms, feeling the muscle there. "You're getting so _big_. Bet you could throw me around by now. And I ain't exactly small."

"Yes," Bruce says. "But -"

"You want me to fuck you?" Harvey asks. He pushes Bruce's shirt up, unbuttons his jeans. Bruce doesn't have time to be embarrassed that he's not wearing boxers, that he's already _leaking_ with how badly he wants this.

" _Yes_ ," Bruce says. "Harvey, I -"

"Don't worry," Harvey says. His eyes are wild, half a bottle of Cuervo and a fist fight wild, and Bruce wants him so much he's choking with it. "I will. But not today."

"Not?" Bruce asks. He knows he must sound as desperate as he is, like he's wanted this for -

Since they met. Since Harvey called him a rich asshole and knocked one of his teeth loose. Since they rolled around on the ground like the idiot teenagers they were, and then became best friends.

"No," Harvey says. "Right now, I just wanna feel you. Want you to feel how much I _want_ you."

"Oh," Bruce says. Harvey lifts his white tank top over his head and Bruce stares at all the scars he has memorized, the bruises new and old. He reaches out, traces his fingers over every bit of skin he can and Harvey watches him, licks his lips.

He stops at Harvey's waistband and when Harvey nods, Bruce unbuttons his jeans, pushes those and Harvey's boxers down past his ass. His mouth waters to taste, to _feel_ , and when he lifts himself up to grab Harvey's ass and lap at his dick, Harvey _groans_ , something guttural as the bottom of a bottle.

"God, Bruce, I," Harvey babbles. "Get this off," he says, picking at Bruce's t-shirt. Bruce takes his shirt off and Harvey shoves him back down and attacks Bruce's chest, sucks and bites at his nipples, leaves teeth marks across Bruce's ribs.

"I get so fucking jealous every night, y'know?" Harvey says. "When those groupies crowd in on you, act like you belong to _them_."

"Harv," Bruce says, breathless. He knows the feeling, but _Harvey's_ the one always disappearing with some girl, stumbling out of the bathroom with his mouth red and used.

"I want," Harvey says. He scratches his blunt nails across Bruce's chest, helps Bruce get his jeans all the way off. "God," Harvey says. He gets his hand around Bruce's dick and Bruce gasps, reaches out for Harvey. They set a rhythm easy as a song, although they're both trembling worse than when the heat broke down on the bus in Minnesota.

"I want," Harvey says again. "Sometimes when we're up there, and I look over at you beating those drums half to death - man, it's all I can do not to stop playing and _rush_ you."

They move faster; Harvey squeezes harder. "I," Bruce says. "I've thought about - just dropping to my knees for you right there."

" _Fuck_ ," Harvey says. "Mera would kill us." They laugh, and Harvey leans forward and kisses Bruce, messy and full of teeth and Bruce uses his free hand to hold him there.

"Harv," Bruce says. "Harvey," he says, and he comes, bites down on his lip as he does. He stays still until he gets his breath back, and then he pushes Harvey back up, gets his hand back around Harvey's dick and says, "Don't hold back, all right?"

"Bruce," Harvey moans, licking Bruce's come from between his fingers. He's beautiful like this, sweating and flushed, just as vibrant as when he has a guitar in his hand. Bruce jerks him off fast, hard, leans in and breathes him in and lets Harvey come all over his face.

"Fuck," Harvey says. He swipes at the mess on Bruce's cheek. "God, you - _Bruce_."

A few years ago, Bruce might have been embarrassed, but he isn't now. He lays back, and Harvey moves next to him. He licks at Bruce's face, rubs his cheek against the stubble on Bruce's chin.

"Man," Harvey says. His eyes are calmer now, like hours after a gig. "You're unbelievable."

"Mm," Bruce hums. "Does that mean you'll write the next song about me?"

Harvey laughs. "Sure, man," he says. "If Diana lets me."

"You _can_ be pretty convincing," Bruce says.

"Yeah," Harvey agrees. He sits up and grabs for his coffee, and Bruce does the same. "All that pre-law, right?"

Bruce nods. "Do you… Do you think you'll ever go back?"

Harvey's quiet for a minute. He drinks his coffee, searches the nightstand for his cigarettes. Then he glances back at Bruce, says, "If you go, I'll go."

"It's a deal," Bruce says. He drains his coffee and tries not to think about either of them ever doing anything but this.


End file.
